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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883697">Saxon and Jones</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellbie/pseuds/ellbie'>ellbie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Another Post-EoT AU where the Doctor didn't regenerate and the Master is traveling with him, M/M, Minor Jo Grant, Minor Martha Jones/Mickey Smith, Minor Threegado, POV Simm!Master, drunk bonding, references to The Time Monster (Doctor Who)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:13:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellbie/pseuds/ellbie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor has vanished, and according to whatever “Emergency Program One” is, he’s presumed dead. Not only does this leave the Master trapped aboard the TARDIS on some no-name planet, but he’s also stuck with his second-least-favorite doctor: Martha Jones.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), The Master (Simm) &amp; Martha Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fiftieth Masterversary Big Bang</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for the 50th Masterversary Big Bang. The fic is complete, and I'll be posting a chapter every 1-2 days.</p>
<p>Accompanying art by the wonderful <a href="https://mushigo-palm-spores.tumblr.com/">mushigo-palm-spores</a> (omfg _thank you_ for my first fanart(s!) 😭💕 and for telling me to sign up for this BB! You're the best 😻)</p>
<p>Also, shoutout to my beta readers, fatalcookies and marytoppins. Y'all kept my sanity in check &lt;33.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>art by <a href="https://mushigo-palm-spores.tumblr.com/">mushigo-palm-spores.</a></em>
</p><hr/>
<p>Veyani Peak was the tallest mountain on the unnamed, desert planet. Of course, it was also the <em>only</em> mountain on the unnamed, desert planet, but if you were going to be pedantic about it, you might as well say that Veyani Peak, at only 400 feet tall, wasn’t even technically a mountain. It was more of a hill.</p>
<p>Or a butte.</p>
<p>The Doctor was saying something again, but the Master had let his mind drift.</p>
<p><em>Who in their right mind bothers to name a mountain before naming the actual planet? </em>he wondered as he glanced around and saw nothing for miles but the rocky crag.</p>
<p>The rest of the landscape was nondescript, with evenly spaced dunes pocking the red sand that stretched out to the horizon in every direction. Aside from the dust, the heat, and the middling rise of black granite, there was nothing. No scrubby plant life; no noises from nearby fauna; no outlaws mounting an ambush from a hidden post on Veyani’s plateaued summit.</p>
<p>But judging by the Doctor’s tone, he still managed to find something to be upset about.</p>
<p>“I mean, can you <em>believe </em>that?” he said. “It’s just <em>rude</em>, is what it is.”</p>
<p>The Master snapped back to attention. “It’s impressive, if anything,” he replied. “The lettering looks rough, so it was likely done by hand.”</p>
<p>They were standing far enough back from the base of the mountain that they could see the entire span of it clearly, including the runic carvings currently drawing the Doctor’s ire. The writing was dark, shadowed in hollow relief against the rock face. As the planet's sun rose steadily higher in the sky, the beams collected in the basin at the foot of the mountain before bouncing brightly off the mineral deposits scattered throughout the rock.</p>
<p>The Doctor sighed. “Forty <em>million</em> years this mountain has stood here, and they just… just...” Coming up short for words, the Doctor gestured erratically with one hand while bringing the other up to visor his eyes against the glare.</p>
<p>“Are you actually blushing?” the Master said. He snorted when the Doctor’s face went a shade redder. “You and your delicate sensibilities, Doctor.”</p>
<p>Martha was off to the side, head tipped and hand likewise shielding her eyes as she looked at the writing. “I can’t read it at all,” she said, pointedly ignoring the Master as she turned to address the Doctor. “What language is this supposed to be?”</p>
<p>“It’s Euccarish,” the Doctor grumbled. “A language spoken by the Vulgans.”</p>
<p>“Vulcans are real?”</p>
<p>“Vul-<em>gans</em>,” the Doctor corrected. “They’re infamous for this sort of thing. Going from planet to planet, vandalizing natural wonders with offensive graffiti.”</p>
<p>The trio continued to squint up at the writing.</p>
<p>“You know, the TARDIS should be able to translate Euccarish,” the Master said, shooting the Doctor a bemused look. “Or did you lock <em>her</em> out of the translation matrix as well?”</p>
<p>The question was mostly rhetorical. Considering the Doctor’s penchant for slapstick repairs and haphazard enhancements, it wasn’t unheard of that the translation circuit was malfunctioning. The Master reached out to check, only to feel the TARDIS’s extrasensory presence pull away at each attempt at contact.</p>
<p>Oh, right. How could he have forgotten that he’d been recently barred from all the telepathic subsystems. And that was in addition to everything that Master had already been locked out of: the dematerialization controls, the coordinate controls, the temporal stabilizers. Really, anything that would allow him to use the ship in any meaningful way had been put up on the high shelf and isomorphically child-locked away behind a big “Keep Out” sign. Presumably this newest retribution came after the Master had once again offended the Doctor with his very existence. Or it had to do with the Master nearly killing that bishop or whatever-it-was on Glorn a few weeks back.</p>
<p>Either way, the Master was lucky if he could even get the toaster to work anymore.</p>
<p>Fortunately, he was fluent in Euccarish — and over a billion other languages — so the quintuple entendre scrawled across Vayani Peak was not lost on him. He coughed to cover up a giggle.</p>
<p>“The translation circuit’s been on a bit of a delay when it comes to text,” the Doctor admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.</p>
<p>“It’s underpowered,” the Master said. “Likely a side-effect of your previous, ah, ‘<em>repairs</em>’ on the chameleon circuit<em>.</em>” The Master smirked over his shoulder at the decidedly conspicuous TARDIS as he took a step closer to the Doctor and simpered, gazing up at him through fluttering eyelashes. His voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “If you’d give me access to the controls, I could fix it for you. If you’d like.”</p>
<p>The Doctor returned a withering look. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about High Priest Worp VII.”</p>
<p>Ah. High Priest. That was it. Easy mistake.</p>
<p>The Master heaved a sigh. “I told you, that was an accident. Their species averages three inches tall. How was I supposed to see him standing under that leaf.”</p>
<p>“That wasn’t a leaf, it was their most sacred temple! Do you realize how close you were to starting a civil war? The kind of power vacuum that would’ve left…”</p>
<p>Martha cleared her throat. “So what’s it say, then?” she asked, nodding back toward the mountain.</p>
<p>The Master's lip curled in a smug smile, eyebrow raised in a dare.</p>
<p>The Doctor flustered. “It’s… uh… well, it’s not really something I’d—”</p>
<p>“The Doctor’s too much of a prude to repeat it,” the Master interrupted.</p>
<p>“Am not!”</p>
<p>“Well,” the Master said, waving him along with both hands. “Go on then. Read it.”</p>
<p>As the Doctor dithered, a warm wind whipped around them, flinging sand up into the air, while the sun continued to beat down with a steady, oppressive heat. As the flashes of glinting rock from the mountain grew brighter in the mid-day light, Martha stripped off her jacket and patted the pockets.</p>
<p>“You know, I think I left my sunglasses at home,” she said, turning toward the ship. “Doctor, you still have that box of extras, yeah?” she asked over her shoulder as she stepped back into the TARDIS.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, in my room, under the bed,” the Doctor muttered. Then his eyebrows shot up. “Wait, no! Don’t go in my room!”</p>
<p>“And kindly toss all that garbage on his desk into the bin while you’re in there,” the Master shouted louder.</p>
<p>“It’s not <em>garbage</em>,” the Doctor huffed, spinning to face the Master, arms flailing about. “Those are my things, and they’re organized just the way I like them.” He called after her. “I have a system, Martha! Don’t touch my stuff!”</p>
<p>“So you’re intentionally living in a sty?” he said, arms folding his chest, challenging. “All this time I was under the impression you were a lazy slob.”</p>
<p>“I have. A. <em>System</em>,” the Doctor insisted, crossing his arms to mirror the Master.</p>
<p>The Master rolled his eyes and cast another bored look around. “Whatever. Why are we here again?”</p>
<p>“Because,” the Doctor said, “you said you wanted to land somewhere warm.”</p>
<p>“I <em>said</em> I wanted to visit Brauliv-4.”</p>
<p>“No, you actually demanded rather rudely that I take you there, ‘<em>or else</em>.’ So I figured we’d compromise. Martha only agreed to come along if we didn't go anywhere dangerous, and this planet’s roughly the same. There’s sand.”</p>
<p>“Brauliv-4 has a beach. With water. How exactly is this the same?” <em>And just because we're in a desert, don't think I won't find some way to drown your annoying pet huma—</em></p>
<p>“Not to mention, this mountain is a bit of a landmark when it comes to this galaxy,” the Doctor continued, ignoring the Master’s protests. “See those sparkly bits? They heat up under the sun, and once they’re hot enough to react with the surrounding rock, they release these chemicals into the air that create a sense of inner peace. Unless you’re an amphibian. Then you just turn blue for a few hours. Still not quite sure what causes that reaction, but it did make a brilliant party trick once a few centuries back when I was visiting crystal marshes on Zantaon.”</p>
<p>The Doctor took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow stream before smiling placidly down at the Master, who chose to keep him pinned with a suspicious stare until the Doctor fidgeted and rubbed at the back of his neck again.</p>
<p>“<em>Aaaand</em> it’s possible the TARDIS may have picked up quite a bit of temporal residue right around here.” He smiled bashfully, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “Figured it couldn’t hurt to take a quick peek.”</p>
<p>“Typical,” the Master scoffed, kicking a divet in the sand. “Well, I’m going back inside before I roast. You have fun exploring. Oh, and dear?” He turned and saw the Doctor looking at him with a small, hopeful smile. “<em>Do </em>try to get yourself killed.”</p>
<p>The Doctor’s hurt pout was a short-lived victory, as he apparently intended to do just that. Scowling once more at the crude writing on the mountain, the Doctor stepped determinedly out of the TARDIS's radius of protection, his rubber soles offering no traction in the desert. The Master wondered if the sinking feeling in his gut was becoming a chronic condition, or if it could be explained away as a necessary side effect of his current travel arrangement. He let his gaze linger a moment longer, wincing as the Doctor slipped about in the hot sand, before rolling his eyes and turning back toward the open TARDIS doors and the promise of air-conditioned relief. He only made it two steps toward the ship before he felt a prickle on the back of his neck.</p>
<p>“Doctor,” he said, whipping around, “did you feel that?”</p>
<p>The Doctor furrowed his brow and tipped up his chin like he was searching the air for the sudden change. “Now that you mention it...” he said, and began walking forward again, swishing his sonic screwdriver through the air.</p>
<p>Considering which of the two of them was more willing to take “curiosity killed the cat” as a challenge rather than sage advice, it was an eternal mystery that the Master had surpassed the Doctor in regenerations used. It was as if the Doctor’s instinct for self-preservation had long ago been replaced by pure, dumb luck.</p>
<p>The Master tried to remember how many lives the Doctor had already burned through when the feeling of unease needled again at the back of his brain. Finally, he gave in and followed after the Doctor.</p>
<p>Further away from the TARDIS shields, the sensation became more pronounced, like static electricity building up in the air, dancing over his skin. And the Doctor, ever the impulsive child, was heading right toward the source.</p>
<p>“Doctor,” he scoffed, “when I asked if you noticed anything, I didn’t mean ‘<em>go stick your nose in—’”</em></p>
<p>The explosion shook through the Master’s bones before the rest of his senses could even process what happened. Vision blacking out in the subsequent rush of sand and heat, the Master was thrown violently back into the ship. His right elbow bashed against the edge of the wooden door, head slamming back into the grates as he was dropped in a heap on the walkway. The rapid change in air pressure sucked the doors back shut with a bang, but over the noise he heard something clatter to the floor next to him. He cracked one eye open.</p>
<p>The Doctor’s sonic.</p>
<p>Disoriented, he watched it spin through the haze of dust.</p>
<p>His eye slipped closed again.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Wake up</em>!”</p>
<p>When did Martha suddenly get there?</p>
<p>She was crouched over him, shaking his shoulder to wake him and wearing an expression full of so much concern that the Master honestly wondered if she’d hit her head too, when he remembered.</p>
<p>“Where’s the Doctor?” he rasped, sitting bolt upright.</p>
<p>“You tell me,” Martha said, glaring now. “And while you’re at it, can you explain this?”</p>
<p>She stepped to the side and the Master’s return glare slid from Martha to the thing that had been standing behind her. For the briefest moment, relief flooded his chest, until his aching head caught up and he realized it was simply a facsimile of the Doctor standing in the room with them. The hologram looked just like him, although a bit stiff, standing taller than usual, expression oddly flat. The blueish image flickered as the Master continued to scrutinize it.</p>
<p>“So, erh, whatever-you-are,” Martha said, addressing the hologram. “Tell him what you told me.”</p>
<p>“Hello,” the hologram began, its voice yet another cheap, flat copy of the Doctor’s. “This is Emergency Program One.”</p>
<p>“Emergency Program what?”</p>
<p>Martha shushed him.</p>
<p>“If this message is activated, it means I'm dead or about to die any second with no chance of escape.”</p>
<p>“<em>What</em>?”</p>
<p>Martha shushed him again.</p>
<p>“And that's okay. Hope it's a good death. But I promised to look after you, and that's what I'm doing. The TARDIS is taking you—”</p>
<p>The hologram’s voice stuttered as the image flicked off. The Master blinked in its absence, about to open his mouth, when Martha said, “Just wait.”</p>
<p>The hologram reappeared, now sporting a frown. That was at least a little more Doctor-like.</p>
<p>“Condition 3-2-6-8 detected. Override in place.” It turned its head to face the Master, who felt his skin crawl under its flickering gaze. “Protocol states the TARDIS cannot return to Earth with the Master on board.”</p>
<p>Then it vanished again. The Master waited a beat, hoping that there would be some follow up. When the hologram didn’t reappear, he turned slowly to Martha, who was still glaring at him and clutching a pair of pink plastic sunglasses and the Doctor’s sonic close to her chest. He noticed that her mouth was moving again, but he couldn’t hear her over the pounding in his skull. Reaching up with his good arm, he grimaced when his fingertips brushed the bruise forming on the back of his head.</p>
<p>“<em>Hey</em>.” She snapped her fingers to get his attention.</p>
<p>He narrowed his eyes at her. <em>Mouthy little—</em></p>
<p>“I was gone for five minutes,” she said, cutting off his train of thought. “What the <em>hell</em> did you do to the Doctor?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I said I’ve got it under control,” the Master snapped, maneuvering his arm through the tight space to wipe at the sweat gathering on his brow. “That’s all you need to know.”</p>
<p>Buried up to his waist in the TARDIS console, he’d been trying to ignore Martha for the better part of the last hour as he prized apart the delicate inner circuitry of the controls. Another <em>zap</em> from a crossed wire sent his legs kicking out, and his shin banged against the panel cover that he’d propped up against the central column. With a telltale ping, a loose bolt dropped through the grated floor, and the Master let his head fall back with a groan.</p>
<p>Without any telepathic feedback from the ship, he was effectively flying blind, and the TARDIS seemed to be taking some joy in this.</p>
<p>“So this is your big plan, is it?” There was a squeak of leather as Martha settled back on the jump seat. “Gain access to the controls so you can disable Emergency Program One?”</p>
<p>The Master grimaced. After the initial excitement from the explosion died down, he’d expected Martha to make herself scarce. Maybe retire to her quarters. Or at least be <em>quiet</em>. Instead, her commentary was only coming more frequently as she insisted on making herself “useful”, but all she seemed to be good at was reminding the Master that he really should have killed her all those years ago on the Valiant when he’d had the chance.</p>
<p>And yes, as a matter of fact, that <em>was </em>his big plan.</p>
<p>“You won’t be able to do it. The Doctor told me it’d take over a billion years to crack the isomorphic encryption.”</p>
<p>Her voice was closer now, and the Master glanced over to see her face appear in the open panel, silhouetted from behind by the bright lights in the console room.</p>
<p>He scowled at her. “Maybe if <em>I </em>programmed it, yes. But in case you haven’t noticed, several key TARDIS components are currently being held together by not much more than gum and paper clips.” He held up a fistful of offending wires so she could watch the small cache of office supplies tumble out when he jostled the bunch. “Besides, he probably just said that so you’d stop nagging about what a danger I am to the universe. Now move, you’re blocking my light.”</p>
<p>Another shower of sparks rained down on him.</p>
<p>“Why not focus on unlocking the doors?” she asked for the umpteenth time. “If we can get outside…”</p>
<p>The Master huffed and hauled himself out of the open panel, sending Martha scrambling back to make room.</p>
<p>“The TARDIS door is deadlock sealed,” he said, flicking a distasteful glance to the sonic screwdriver Martha was still clutching like a lifeline. “You can wave the Doctor’s little toy at it all you want, but don’t get your hopes up.”</p>
<p>In fact, the sonic was the first thing they’d tried once the Master had clambered to his feet after the explosion. When it proved useless, he and Martha had stood at the locked doors side-by-side, tip-toed to peer out the tiny windows as they shouted the Doctor’s name, banging and kicking at the desceptively strong wood in a moment of panic-induced alliance.</p>
<p>But the doors wouldn’t budge, and the only answer to their shouts were the currents of air shushing through the wasteland. Any indication that they’d even set foot on the planet, let alone that there’d been a massive explosion, had been tidily erased by the wind.</p>
<p>Unwilling to face the realization that they were trapped, the Master had mentally run through a list of theories. Maybe the Doctor had been abducted. Snatched by a transmat beam. Sucked under the surface of the sand by some native predator.</p>
<p>When they first landed, he’d peeked at the life scanners over the Doctor’s shoulder, and everything indicated the planet was uninhabited. It was only now, after digging around in the console for the first time since he'd built his paradox machine and seeing all the new and horrible ways the Doctor had altered the wiring, that he wasn’t even sure which systems could be trusted anymore.</p>
<p>Setting his mouth in a grim line, and he began pulling himself back under the panel, stopping the motion only when Martha spoke again.</p>
<p>“I really hope you don’t think that in all my time traveling with the Doctor, I just sat around while he did all the actual work.”</p>
<p>“Actually, Miss Jones,” he said, leaning back on one hand while a nasty smile spread across his face, “I don’t think about you at all.”</p>
<p>Martha’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry, <em>Mr. Saxon</em>, but it’s <em>Dr. </em>Jones, if you don’t mind.”</p>
<p>Exasperated, the Master dragged a hand down his face. “Fine, you want to help?”</p>
<p>He leaned forward slightly, folding his arms so that his elbows could rest on his knees. Letting his eyes go wide, he gazed intently up at her face. “Go fix me a mug of tea.”</p>
<p>They stared at each other, completely still, until the Master’s eye started to twitch.</p>
<p>Finally, Martha barked out a laugh. “Learning to resist hypnosis is one of the first things they teach you at UNIT.” She crouched down to his level and smirked. “Pretty sure you’re the reason for that. But nice try anyway.”</p>
<p>“I’m flattered,” he said with a sneer before dragging his torso back into the wires to resume his attempt at circumventing the isomorphic lock. He wondered if the Doctor would notice if Martha were to mysteriously vanish.</p>
<p><em>No, no</em>, he thought. <em>I’d never hear the end of it.</em></p>
<p>“Alright,” she huffed. “You don’t want my help? Fine. I’ll figure out something on my own.”</p>
<p>“Right,” the Master snorted back, “Good luck with that.”</p>
<p>“Better than letting you get full access to the TARDIS. For all I know, you just want it for yourself.”</p>
<p>Doctor be damned, he was going to murder her. He struggled to disentangle himself from the wiring once again, but by the time he was free, Martha had disappeared from the console room, her footsteps fading down the hall. A low growl crawled out of his throat, and, hand gripping the edge of the console, he hauled himself to his feet.</p>
<p>He peered down at the controls, resting his palms on two flat spans of metal between a series of knobs and switches. He lifted one hand tentatively, eyeing the switch that controlled the locking mechanism for a moment before flicking it.</p>
<p>Nothing happened.</p>
<p>“Goddammit,” he muttered.</p>
<p>“Protocol states the doors are to remain closed.”</p>
<p>The Master tensed at the sound of the Doctor’s voice and cast a murderous look over his shoulder.</p>
<p>“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Aside from the occasional flicker, the hologram kept him fixed with a steady gaze. The Master’s lip curled as he took a step toward it, seething.</p>
<p>“You know, I once chose death over being trapped on this ship.” He glared up into unseeing blue eyes. “Was this your plan all along? Play the long game until one of your inevitable mistakes leaves me locked up for good? And with <em>Martha-fucking-Jones</em>, no less?”</p>
<p>The hologram didn’t speak as the Master gave it a sneering once-over.</p>
<p>“No, no, you were always too scatterbrained to plan more than one step ahead. Let’s see... Emergency Program One originally was supposed to return your pet home, to Earth, but it couldn’t because I’m on board.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Wait a minute, what if I’d been the only one on board? Were you going to have the TARDIS take me back to...”</p>
<p>Oh. Right.</p>
<p>The image of his blazing home planet being dragged back through the portal into the time lock — to the tune of billions screaming, no less — was still, thrillingly, burned in his brain. At the time, when the Doctor had been bodily holding him back from being sucked through as well, he didn’t see much of a point in resisting. Sure, he could’ve dived in after them. It would’ve been nice to actually see the look on Rassilon’s newly regenerated face as he attacked him with yet another volley of artron energy, but fixing his own botched reincarnation seemed to be the more pressing matter at the time. That whole “all-consuming hunger”-thing had, admittedly, gotten a <em>tiiiny</em> bit out of hand, and there had been a Doctor available and willing to help him, after all.</p>
<p>God, he was an idiot.</p>
<p>“So that’s it, then. You just... forgot? Didn’t bother thinking at all about what should happen to me if you get yourself killed on one of your stupid adventures?”</p>
<p>No response came.</p>
<p>“<em>Answer me, Doctor</em>!”</p>
<p>“I am not the Doctor,” the hologram responded. “I am the interface for Emergency Program One.”</p>
<p>Even if his fist didn’t make solid contact, taking a swing at the hologram felt good. The image fizzled then reformed, its expression still tauntingly placid.</p>
<p>The Master turned his attention back to the console, sneering at the hobbled controls. “Just keep it up,” he gritted, “and I’ll make you wish I never came looking for you.”</p>
<p>This wasn’t working. He needed tools. He needed time to think. Most of all, he needed a walk to cool down before he accidentally tore the central column apart with his bare hands.</p>
<p>Sucking a measured breath through his nose, he marched out of the console room without another glance at the hologram.</p>
<p>Raiding the Doctor’s lab seemed like a welcome distraction. Or at least it did until he got to the lab and remembered the Doctor’s organization system (or lack thereof) meant it would probably take him longer to find a decent set of pliers than it would to manually deprogram the isomorphic locks. He was busy dumping out the sixth cardboard box unhelpfully labeled “Useful” (on what plane of existence were 18 skeins of purple Altrakian yak yarn “useful”?), when he felt the TARDIS lurch around him. His head snapped up, eyes fixed toward the front of the ship, and he realized something: he’d left Martha completely unsupervised.</p>
<p><em>Shit</em>.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>When he burst into the console room a few minutes later, out of breath, he saw her leaning over the controls, back to him, a large book spread open on the panel next to her.</p>
<p>She might’ve heard his entrance were it not for one of the screens mounted to the central column stealing her attention. He was about to yell at her when audio started playing through the speakers.</p>
<p>“...fun exploring. Oh, and dear? <em>Do </em>try to get yourself killed.”</p>
<p>The Master froze mid-step.</p>
<p>Martha looked at the book before tentatively moving her hand to the controls. She pushed a slider to the right, and the video playback skipped ahead.</p>
<p>The Master didn’t need to see the screen to know what happened next.</p>
<p>The explosion boomed through the speakers, loud enough that Martha startled back from the console, giving the Master a view of the recording.</p>
<p>The camera angle showed the inside of the console room until the blast temporarily blacked out the image. By the time it cleared, the Master had been thrown into the ship, landing on his back with the Doctor’s sonic spinning next to him, a cloud of dust billowing through the space before the doors sucked shut, cutting off the wind. There was a pause as the scene stilled, then fast forwarded, slowing again when Martha ran into the room. She stopped first at the Master’s side, pausing as if unsure of what to do, then swiped up the sonic before running to the doors. She tried unsuccessfully to pull them open and returned to the Master’s side, crouching down to shake him awake.</p>
<p>The scene paused again, and by that point, the Master had silently crept up behind Martha, leaning over her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Find anything interesting?”</p>
<p>With a yelp, her hand slammed down on the slider, the screen flickered off, and the Master snatched the book before she could reach for it. He snapped it shut and glanced down at the cover, quirking an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“The TARDIS manual?” He sidestepped as she grabbed for the book. “Where the hell did you get this? And what are you doing with it? You shouldn’t even be able to <em>read</em> it.”</p>
<p>“The Doctor’s bookshelf,” she snapped, grabbing for it again. “And it’s got pictures, now give it <em>back</em>.”</p>
<p>The Master skipped around to the other side of the controls, keeping out of reach. “I thought this went without saying, but when the Doctor isn’t onboard, <em>I’m</em> in charge. And rule number one is ‘<em>Humans don’t get to touch the TARDIS controls</em>.’”</p>
<p>Martha huffed. “Why? Worried I’ll find out what <em>actually</em> happened?”</p>
<p>His mouth parted slightly in disbelief before he clicked it back shut. “And <em>what</em>, pray tell, is <em>that </em>supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>Martha stopped reaching for the manual, instead pointing an accusing finger in the Master’s direction. “I left the two of you alone for <em>five minutes</em>, and all of a sudden, this...this hologram <em>thing </em>is saying the Doctor is dead, and now you’re trying to get access to the TARDIS!” She glared at him. “Bit suspicious, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>The Master’s lip curled, and he tossed the manual behind him. It clattered to the floor with a rustle of pages. Martha didn’t move to retrieve it.</p>
<p>“The <em>gall</em> of you primitives,” he said, rounding on her. “First you accuse me of trying to steal the TARDIS.”</p>
<p>Martha backed away until she bumped the console, eyeing him nervously.</p>
<p>“<em>Now</em> you accuse me of killing him.” The Master took another step to block her in, smile curling mad and cruel. “But that would just mean there’s no one here to protect you, is there?”</p>
<p>Martha’s gaze hardened, her arms rising defensively, when the Doctor’s hologram appeared in the narrow space between them.</p>
<p>“Unfortunately,” it said, its translucent face smiling with maddening calm at the Master, “threatening each other is not permitted when Emergency Program One is active. Let’s take a moment to cool off, shall we?”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It really shouldn’t have been a surprise. Of <em>course</em> Emergency Program One would be programmed to keep the Doctor’s little pets safe at all cost. The Doctor would <em>never</em> forget about <em>them</em>.</p>
<p>But to say the realization hit him like a rush of cold water would be accurate.</p>
<p>One moment, he’d been standing in the console room, a force of pure hatred closing in on Martha Jones, ready to strike, and the next…</p>
<p>Well, it all happened so fast, it was hard to piece it together, but evidence would suggest the TARDIS neatly folded reality in on itself, plucking up the small section of console room he inhabited and depositing it neatly in the pool room, roughly 6 feet above the water.</p>
<p>The aforementioned rush of cold water flooded his sinuses as he plunged feet first into the deep end.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, that awesome fan art by mushigo-palm-spores? I *still* can't get over how her depiction of the scene looks so much cooler than what I was picturing in my head 😆</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<p>new fan arts!!! courtesy of <a href="https://mushigo-palm-spores.tumblr.com/">mushigo-palm-spores</a> 💙💙💙</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The Master plucked another book off the shelf in the Doctor’s room and tossed it over his shoulder.</p>
<p>“<em>Don’t touch my stuff, Martha</em>,” he mocked in whiny sing-song as more fluttering pages joined the pile on the floor. He took another gulp from the glass in his other hand, grimacing at the burn of whiskey in his throat. Fortunately, he had a stockpile of booze from his second-to-last time subjugating the Earth, and he figured now was as good as ever to make a significant dent in the supply.</p>
<p>“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking for over an hour.”</p>
<p>Without turning around, the Master could perfectly picture <em>Dr. Martha Jones</em> standing in the doorway of the Doctor’s room, judging him.</p>
<p>“Decided to take a dip in the pool,” he said, flashing a grin over his shoulder. Even though he’d showered and changed clothes, the burn of chlorine still stung his sinuses. “Sorry, did you need me for something?”</p>
<p>He took another long sip of whiskey, eyebrows raised innocently over the lip of his glass, and Martha, who was staring just as judgily as he’d imagined, narrowed her eyes.</p>
<p>“Are you drunk?”</p>
<p>“Not nearly enough, apparently.”</p>
<p>She huffed and walked into the room, stepping over the discarded books and papers and trinkets the Master had littered all over the floor in a rage. Setting the TARDIS manual on the nightstand, she knelt next to the Doctor’s bed and pulled a box out from underneath labeled “Spare Sunglasses (Do Not Touch)” and tossed her borrowed pair back onto the pile. The Master’s lip twitched in disgust at the familiarity with which she moved through the Doctor’s space. The colorful plastic frames clacked together as they settled, and she shoved the box back and started picking up books off the floor.</p>
<p>“This isn’t going to help us find him,” she said, indicating the mess.</p>
<p>The Master huffed a laugh. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that. It’s actually been quite nice not having him around yapping all the time. Now, if only I could get rid of you.”</p>
<p>The Emergency Program One hologram appeared in the center of the room and gave the Master a stern look, flickering briefly as the Master’s glass sailed harmlessly through its torso to shatter against the opposite wall. He got an even sterner look for his trouble before the hologram vanished again.</p>
<p>He glared at the spot where it had stood until he realized his clenched fist was starting to shake, and he quickly busied himself with finding another glass.</p>
<p>“You know,” Martha said, the frustration clear in her voice, “one easy way to get rid of me would be to help me get the Doctor back so he can, I don’t know, <em>take me back to Earth</em>.” She dropped a stack of the Doctor’s things back on his desk with a loud <em>thump</em> next to the Master's open whiskey bottle.</p>
<p>“But then we’d have to <em>go</em> to Earth, and you know I just <em>hate</em> it there.”</p>
<p>The Master, having located a new glass in one of the desk drawers, reached for the bottle. Martha snatched it away. Without breaking eye contact, the Master fished under a disorganized mountain of papers; pulled out a second, identical bottle; and flashed another grin.</p>
<p>Martha’s eye twitched, but, surprisingly, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she hefted her bottle and took a swig, swiping her sleeve across her mouth, and opened her mouth, presumably to scold him some more, because isn’t that all any <em>doctors</em> were good for? Then she paused and glanced down, turning the bottle so the label faced her. “Wow. This is <em>really</em> good.”</p>
<p>“Best 21st century Earth liquor that money didn’t buy,” the Master said with a scoff. “One of the many plus-sides of being the Lord and Master of that shithole you call a home planet.”</p>
<p>“<em>Former</em> Lord and Master, if I remember correctly.” Martha took another pull from the bottle, but the Master didn’t miss her infuriating smirk.</p>
<p>He tipped his head. “I’ll admit, I’m not used to being spoken to like this.” His grin went cold. “I can’t say I’m a fan.”</p>
<p>Martha smiled pleasantly. “Well, it’s not like you can do anything about it. Except maybe help me get the doors unlocked.” She sat in the chair behind the Doctor’s desk, crossing her legs defiantly.</p>
<p>The Master wondered if he could rig up a new laser screwdriver to kill Martha before Emergency Program One registered what he was doing, but just the thought exhausted him. He went back to tossing books off the shelf.</p>
<p>“So why can’t I read the TARDIS manual?”</p>
<p>The Master ignored her.</p>
<p>“The Doctor said text was supposed to be translated eventually, but I’ve stared at it forever and this still just looks like symbols.”</p>
<p>The Master continued ignoring her.</p>
<p>“Think you broke something while you were trying to hack into the controls?”</p>
<p>“Oh, for the love of…” He threw the book he’d just grabbed — the Doctor’s journal, which he’d already read and annotated — down at Martha’s feet and pinned her with a glare. “The translation matrix is part of the telepathic circuit. If the Doctor...” The Master grimaced. “When the Doctor <em>isn’t present</em>, the circuit isn’t complete. No more translations.”</p>
<p>“But I can understand you.”</p>
<p>“Of course you can. I switched to English the second the Doctor decided to let you tag along.”</p>
<p>Martha tipped her head in mild surprise. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Because ‘When can we dump this awful human back on her stupid planet?’ doesn’t have the same ring to it in Gallifreyan.”</p>
<p>Martha snorted. “Subtle.”</p>
<p>“Me?” the Master asked with faux-surprise. “Never. Besides, even if this junk heap of a ship was functional, it can’t translate Old High Gallifreyan, which is what the manual is written in.”</p>
<p>“And I assume you can read that?”</p>
<p>The Master wondered if he was doing permanent damage to his throat with all this scoffing. “That and about a billion other languages.”</p>
<p>Martha beamed. “Great! So you translate, I’ll work the controls, and we’ll get the doors unlocked in no time.”</p>
<p>“Did you somehow get more annoying since the last time I saw you?” the Master deadpanned. “No, seriously, I think congratulations are in order. I didn’t know it was possible for you to be worse than I remembered.”</p>
<p>They stared at each other for another moment, quietly fuming, before returning to their liquor.</p>
<p>“You’re an arse,” Martha said finally.</p>
<p>“Well, maybe next time you’ll stay home. Assuming there is a next time, and we don’t die on this ship.”</p>
<p>“I’m not dying on this ship,” Martha snapped. “I’m getting back home.” She glared down at the bottle in her hands.</p>
<p>When Martha didn’t continue and kept staring sullenly, the Master considered it a win and walked over to the couch, flopping down unceremoniously and staring up at the ceiling, letting his vision fuzz as the motion swirled the copious amounts of alcohol in both his glass and his bloodstream.</p>
<p>He heard a rustle of papers in Martha’s direction, but didn’t bother to look up until she said, “Hey, wasn’t this the old UNIT HQ?”</p>
<p>With some difficulty, he got his elbows underneath himself and sat up, glaring in her direction. She was hunched over something, making no indication she'd actually present it to him, so he groaned, got up all the way, and went to peer over her shoulder, fully prepared to shred more of the Doctor’s belongings.</p>
<p>His eyebrows shot up when he realized what she was holding.</p>
<p>The photo was old and worn on the edges, but the subjects were clear.</p>
<p>He huffed out a small laugh. “I can’t believe he actually has this.”</p>
<p>“You know these people?”</p>
<p>He pointed to the dark clad man in the center of the shot, his mouth curving into a matching, sly grin. “What, you don’t see the resemblance?”</p>
<p>Martha’s brows pinched as she looked at the man in the photo, then her eyes flicked to the Master, then back to the photo.</p>
<p>“Is this, like, your evil uncle or something?”</p>
<p>“No, you moron, that’s <em>me </em>in a past regeneration.”</p>
<p>“No way.”</p>
<p>“Yep.”</p>
<p>“That is <em>not</em> you.”</p>
<p>“Is too.”</p>
<p>“...No way.”</p>
<p>“This is going to get old very quickly, Martha.”</p>
<p>She squinted down at the picture, mouth turned down in a small frown. “You look like an old movie villain.”</p>
<p>“Please! That was a great look.”</p>
<p>Martha started to chuckle. “Yeah, and I bet you had an evil laugh and everything. Did you stroke the goatee, too?”</p>
<p>The Master sniffed, turning his nose up. “I looked <em>great</em> with a goatee. In fact, I might bring that back…”</p>
<p>Martha was laughing harder now and the Master flushed, grabbing for the picture.</p>
<p>“Uh-uh,” Martha said, turning away so he couldn’t reach it. “Who are the others?”</p>
<p>He grumbled and took another gulp from his glass. “Duuuh,” he drawled after swallowing. “That’s the Doctor.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Martha’s eyes softened as she studied the man in the photo, his floof of white hair, his velvet jacket and ruffled shirt, his stern mouth and playful eyes. “Look at him. He looks so old.”</p>
<p>“<em>Old</em>? Are you kidding me? We were barely 700 when that was taken.”</p>
<p>Martha ignored him, still staring down at the picture, tilting it in her hands so it caught the light. “And that’s the old Brigadier, yeah? I’ve seen pictures, but I never met him.”</p>
<p>The Master took another drink before setting his glass down and holding out his hand for the photo. Martha eyed him warily, no doubt thinking he’d throw it away, but after a moment’s pause, she handed it over. He felt a twinge holding it. He couldn't remember the occasion exactly. Likely one of his many attempts to kill the Doctor had been foiled and he'd been turned over to UNIT custody. Again. Who would've even taken this? That one oaf of a Sergeant, probably. What was his name again? Benton, or something?</p>
<p>Martha was still watching him, so he shook his head to clear the impending fog of memories.</p>
<p>“Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart,” he said, eyeing the stern-faced man. “And that’s Jo Grant, the Doctor’s human companion of the day.”</p>
<p>“Blonde,” Martha muttered sarcastically. “What a surprise.”</p>
<p>The Master shot her a look. “You would’ve liked Jo. Impossible not too. Bloody ray of sunshine, that one. She <em>also</em> had an annoying habit of resisting hypnosis. At least after the first time.” His lip quirked. “Oh, and that” — he pointed at the image again — “was his car. <em>Bessie</em>.”</p>
<p>“He had a car?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, imagine that. Still don’t know why the Brigadier allowed it. He drove all across London in that stupid thing. I told him I’d personally see him through his next three regenerations if he ever got Jo in a wreck.”</p>
<p>Martha snorted. Then she looked up at him, waiting for a reaction.</p>
<p>The Master narrowed his eyes. “What?”</p>
<p>“You’re saying you, what? Looked out for her, or something?”</p>
<p>“Well, <em>someone</em> had to. Back then, there was no Emergency Program One to look after the Doctor’s pets.” He looked back down at the picture and smiled. “I remember one time, he got stuck in Time Vortex. I had to listen to Jo cry about it endlessly over the communication channel between my TARDIS and the Doctor’s. Would’ve been much easier if Emergency Program One had just popped her back to Earth and locked the TARDIS down.”</p>
<p>In fact, had Jo returned to Earth, she wouldn’t have saved the Doctor, and the Master would be happily ruling over Atlantis right about now. Well, at least until he got bored and razed the entire civilization to the ground.</p>
<p>“How’d he get stuck in the Time Vortex?” Martha asked, ruining his daydream.</p>
<p>“Huh? Oh. I fed him to a chronovore that I controlled with an ancient Atlantean crystal. Obviously.”</p>
<p>Martha stared at him, and, sensing she was about to get annoying again, he stuffed the picture into his pocket, picked up his glass from the desk and went back to the couch.</p>
<p>“I don’t get it,” she said finally. “I really don’t. I mean, why is he <em>willingly</em> traveling with you?”</p>
<p>The Master rolled his eyes, knowing that she was going to work herself into a tizzy whether he responded or not, so he decided to continue with his plan of getting very-very-very drunk.</p>
<p>“I’m not even supposed to <em>be</em> here,” Martha continued, because apparently alcohol had an unfortunate side effect of making humans chatty. “I was just supposed to supervise while the Doctor refueled the TARDIS at the rift in Cardiff, because apparently he can’t land on Earth without ten different international agencies ringing me in a panic now that it’s been confirmed you’re traveling with him.” She shook her head, looking disgusted. “But then it’s all ‘Just one quick trip, Martha! For old time’s sake!’ and ‘Nowhere dangerous, I swear!’ and ‘The Master’s different now, wouldn’t hurt a fly!’”</p>
<p>He had to laugh at that last one. The Doctor was a shit liar.</p>
<p>Martha sighed. “I guess I thought it’d be different. I mean, <em>I’ve</em> changed so much since I met him, but it’s like he’s… stuck. And the rest of us just get dragged down with him.” She paused, took a sip of whiskey, then looked straight at the Master. “To be clear, I’ve never enslaved a planet or killed billions of people or made an army of me-clones. You, on the other hand, deserve every bad thing that happens to you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, please,” the Master said, rolling his eyes. “Half of that stuff got erased.”</p>
<p>“Tell that to my traumatized family,” Martha grumbled. “You’re lucky UNIT has therapists on staff.”</p>
<p>“See? They’re fine. Besides, you’re acting like I was the one that wanted this current arrangement. As soon as the Doctor realized I was alive, he practically begged me to come back. What was I supposed to do?” He sipped his drink. “He gets these big puppy eyes, you see.”</p>
<p>Martha watched him for a moment, and then, said sadly, more to herself than to the Master, “He’d do anything for you.”</p>
<p>The Master’s brow furrowed. That didn’t sound right at all. In fact, the Doctor seemed to put extra effort into anything that went directly against the Master’s wishes.</p>
<p>She leaned forward, placing both hands on the Doctor’s desk, and staring at him intently. “You are the absolutely worst person in the universe, but it doesn’t even matter to him. He drops everything for you, and you won’t even lift a finger to help him. That’s the saddest part.”</p>
<p>OK, <em>ouch</em>. The Master looked down into his glass, pretending to nurse the drink so he could hide the flush that rose in his cheeks. He wasn’t going to give Martha Jones the satisfaction of scolding him.</p>
<p>“Well, I hope the Doctor at least appreciates all the effort <em>I</em> put in for him,” she continued. “I mean, I better at least get a thank you after I’ve saved him. Maybe he’ll invite me to stay a bit longer.” She set the bottle on the desk, rolling it on the edge casually, musing aloud like she’d forgotten he was there. “Might be useful to have someone around that can actually access the TARDIS controls.”</p>
<p>Wait. Did she just…?</p>
<p>The corner of the Master’s mouth turned up in a smile in spite of himself. “You’re a manipulative little species, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you can talk.”</p>
<p>He snorted into his drink. “Fine. If it means I can get you out of my hair sooner, we’ll try it your way.” He moved to stand up, pitched forward, and only just managed to grab the arm of his chair before falling flat on his face. “...Starting tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Fine.” Martha stood from her chair, wobbling slightly as well, and made her way to the door. “Just be sober by then. I’m going to sleep.”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” he huffed.</p>
<p>She paused in the doorway. “Wait a minute... I didn’t think Time Lords could get hammered. Something about having two livers?”</p>
<p>The Master smirked and fished a can of ginger beer out from between the couch cushions and presented it proudly. “Little cheat for our species’ biology. You have to keep it hidden from the Doctor. Last time he had some, he ended up vomiting in the bushes.” He drained the can, crumpled it in his hand, and flung it to the floor.</p>
<p>Martha dragged her hands down her face and left the room. He could hear her bemoaning “why me?” and “overgrown children, all of you” fade down the hall as she left. The Master chuckled. After a moment’s pause, he fished the old picture out of his pocket, sipping his drink as he settled back in his seat.</p>
<p>“Idiot,” he muttered at the image of the Doctor’s past self. “Always have been, always will be.” He hummed a soft noise somewhere between bitter and fond as he stared at their old faces. Then he looked around the mess he’d made of the room, realizing with a wry grin that it wasn’t actually much fun ruining the Doctor’s things if he wasn’t here to bear witness to the destruction. Surely that was enough reason to justify taking a <em>human</em>’<em>s</em> advice.</p>
<p>He took another sip of his drink and stared at the photo.</p>
<p>Well, just the once couldn’t hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The four-beat sound of drums had plagued the Master for over one thousand years. Some days were better than others, and surely most days had been better than when he was first released from the Chameleon Arch, when they blasted so loudly he felt like he’d truly gone mad. Or when he turned every human on Earth into a copy of himself in that failed attempt to hail Gallifrey back into this universe, when billions of hims all stood at attention, the echoing beat pounding away so loudly that he swore the whole planet shook with it…</p>
<p>Well, none of that compared to this hangover.</p>
<p>He’d woken in a heap on the Doctor’s bed, in a puddle of drool, still in his same clothes, and thoroughly convinced he was dying. As he made his way to the kitchen, he’d come to the horrifying conclusion that Martha had snuck in while he’d been passed out, removed his brain, stomped on it a few times, and dropped it back in his skull crooked or upside down or both.</p>
<p>And she thought he wouldn’t notice.</p>
<p>“<em>Owww</em>,” he moaned, rubbing his temples. He looked down at the cold pat of butter which refused to melt on his untoasted bread and felt his stomach turn. He shoved the plate away, dropping his face into folded arms. “My fucking <em>head</em>.”</p>
<p>“Bad hangover?” He didn’t look up at Martha when she walked into the kitchen, but her voice made it easy to picture her stupid, obnoxious, awful, smiling face. “Gonna blow up a planet about it?”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes. I’m a terrible person. Worst in existence.” He struggled to lift his head to glare at her. “But can you <em>not</em> nag me about it right now?”</p>
<p>“Sure, if you ever actually apologized,” she said with another smile the Master could generously describe as insufferable.</p>
<p>He was about to tell her off when the TARDIS jolted violently. He spread his arms wide, bracing against the table as he lurched forward, and Martha let out a loud <em>oof</em> as she banged into the wall.</p>
<p>“The hell?” he snapped, looking around wildly when the shaking stopped.</p>
<p>Martha pushed herself back upright. “It was doing that all night,” she said, rubbing her shoulder where it hit the wall. “Though this felt like the worst one. Did you not notice it?”</p>
<p>The Master grimaced as he thought of the crumpled pile of ginger beer cans littering the floor of the Doctor’s room and the annoying gaps in his memory. He shook his head.</p>
<p>“We should get started on the doors. Here.” Martha pulled a pill bottle out of her pocket and rattled it. “Take a couple of these. You’ll feel better.”</p>
<p>She tossed it toward him, and he instinctively held his hand up to catch it, blinking in surprise when it never landed. He looked around the floor. Was he hallucinating? Was that a part of hangovers he’d forgotten about?</p>
<p>“What the hell?” Martha asked, realizing the bottle has disappeared as well. “Where’d my aspirin go?”</p>
<p>“Ah,” the Master said as he pressed his fingers into his temples and rubbed in alternating circles. “Time Lords are allergic to aspirin. Emergency Program One must’ve registered that as a threat.”</p>
<p>“So where’s the bottle?”</p>
<p>“I’d check the pool.”</p>
<p>Martha muttered peevishly as marched back out of the room. Despite the bottomless well of pain plaguing his head, the Master couldn’t help but smile.</p>
<p>So Emergency Program One <em>was</em> designed to watch out for him, after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, uh…” Martha pulled the phone away from her face and squinted at the screen before putting it back to her ear. “God, I hope this thing is calling you when I think it is, and not sometime before we got married. Or met. Otherwise this might be a confusing phone call.” Martha laughed nervously and shifted her feet. “Anyway, just wanted to say hello! Everything’s fine here. I’ll be back soon.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “I love you, Mickey. Can’t wait for anniversary dinner.”</p>
<p>Martha’s shoulders slumped as she snapped her old flip phone shut and placed it back on the TARDIS controls, right where the Doctor had left it after she’d given it to him following the Year That Never Was. The Master ducked back into the corridor so as not to be caught eavesdropping</p>
<p>He had half a mind to make a snide comment about the audacity of a <em>doctor</em> actually making an effort to get back home to her loved ones, but he lacked the anger to fuel the remark. He placed his hand over his pocket, feeling the edge of the old photo he’d folded and tucked inside.</p>
<p>“Stupid bastard,” he muttered. “What did you get yourself into?”</p>
<p>He supposed there was only one way to find out.</p>
<p>He adjusted his grip on the TARDIS manual and strolled into the room, confident smirk firmly in place.</p>
<p>“Look alive, Jones. We’ve got work to do.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Update: because <a href="https://mushigo-palm-spores.tumblr.com/">@mushigo-palm-spores</a> is AMAZING and TALENTED, there is now new fan art posted with Chapter 3! Please check it out :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And how exactly does a trans-dimensional oscillator help us get the door unlocked?”</p>
<p>The Master glanced up from the TARDIS manual. “Because,” he said patiently, “the Doctor is an idiot.” Expecting that to be a satisfactory answer, he resumed his reading.</p>
<p>“That doesn’t answer my question.”</p>
<p>The Master sighed and snapped the book shut, leaning back in the jump seat and rubbing at the slowly receding ache in his temple. </p>
<p>“This ship has had about 500 years worth of hack job repairs and enhancements done to it. That wire, there” — he pointed toward the panel — “isn’t supposed to connect to the oscillator. But for god knows what reason, it is now. Dropping the resonance might allow us to short circuit the locking mechanism.”</p>
<p>Martha still looked uncertain.</p>
<p>“Do you want to get out and help him, or not?” the Master said coolly, flipping the manual open again and turning his attention back to it. They’d agreed to this compromise. The Master would stop trying to deprogram Emergency Program One, and would instead focus on getting the front door’s locking mechanism to disengage, using Martha as his proxy to actually key in commands. The TARDIS seemed all too happy to listen to her.</p>
<p>He smiled to himself when he heard the oscillation circuit engage. “Good. Now set the variable burst to five.”</p>
<p>Martha stared blankly at the dozen knobs in front of her before pointing to a random one. “This one?”</p>
<p>“Two to the left.”</p>
<p>Martha turned it and quickly yanked her hand back. “Ow! It shocked me!”</p>
<p>The Master’s eyes snapped up to Martha, who was shaking her hand out, before glaring at the offending knob. “Shouldn’t have.”</p>
<p>“Well it did,” she said, wincing as she rubbed her palm. “Maybe pick one that won’t hurt me next time?” She looked back up the central pillar. “Huh. Well, at least it got the outside surveillance to work.”</p>
<p>The Master looked at the display with mild surprise. “Great. This is even more convoluted than I thought.” He left the jump seat to stand at the controls and scanned the screen for any sign of the Doctor.</p>
<p>On the display, the windswept desert stretched out ahead of them until it met the base of the mountain. There was no sign of the Doctor, no indication there’d been an explosion. Nothing. Then the screen went black again and the Master swore and ducked under the open panel to reassess the wiring configuration.</p>
<p>“Erh, you might want to take a look at this,” Martha said.</p>
<p>The Master stood back up and glanced at the screen. “What? It turned back off.”</p>
<p>“No,” Martha corrected, pointing at the upper right corner. “It looks like something just moved in front of the camera. See? There’s a bit of light still getting through.”</p>
<p>When the Master looked closer, he realized that she was right: a faint glow from the sun was peeking around whatever was obstructing the video feed. </p>
<p>Something was on the TARDIS.</p>
<p>The Master picked up two random wires, disconnecting them from their leads and jamming them together haphazardly. The resulting short-circuit shook the TARDIS and sent smoke pouring out of the console.</p>
<p>“What did you do that for?” Martha shouted as she recovered from her stumble.</p>
<p>“Look,” the Master said, pointing at the screen. </p>
<p>Whatever had been in front of the camera pulled away, giving Martha and the Master a full view of it’s writhing discomfort. The thing was a massive, lemon yellow tube with a small opening at one end that served as a mouth. Its lower half stretched off screen, presumably coiled around the TARDIS, and its eyeless face gaped at the camera, gnashing several rows of sharp, clicking teeth.</p>
<p>“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” the Master grumbled.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Martha breathed, staring at the strange creature.</p>
<p>As it settled into stillness, perched around the top of the TARDIS, it began to glow, its colors shifting from yellow to an angry turquoise with flowing red spots.</p>
<p>“It’s an Arlomiax,” the Master said, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “They’re chronovores. They usually float around the Time Vortex in big schools, feeding off of temporal energy. This one must’ve gotten lost.” They watched for a moment until the hungry maw overtook the camera, it’s teeth gnawing at the TARDIS. The structure of it’s throat spanned about seven dimensions, with fins and sparks and 3D shadows and an incredible amount of drool.</p>
<p>“Is it… <em>eating </em>the TARDIS?” Martha wondered, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of it.</p>
<p>“It’s after the residual energy from the Time Vortex that’s still clinging to the ship. They’re also passably telepathic, so it must be what’s affecting the controls,” the Master said. “We need to get it away from the TARDIS so it stops interfering with the circuitry.”</p>
<p>“How do you expect to do that?”</p>
<p>The Master held up the sparking wires.</p>
<p>Martha’s eyes went wide. “You can’t just shock it to death.”</p>
<p>The Master rolled his eyes. “Oh, of course. I’ll just nicely ask the brainless worm to leave. Unless you have a better idea?”</p>
<p>“Not right now, but I’m sure I will in a minute.”</p>
<p>“Right,” the Master said impatiently. “While you think on that, I’m going to get us out of this mess.”</p>
<p>“Wait!” Martha shouted. “What’s it doing?”</p>
<p>The worm had stopped writhing outside and was now twitching angrily, it’s slavering mouth focused on something just beyond the camera lens. It dove forward with an angry hiss and the power on the ship cut out.</p>
<p>The Master looked down at the wires in his hand, groaning when he noticed there was no longer a current sparking at the ends. “<em>Great</em>. Now we’ve missed our chance, thanks to you.”</p>
<p>Martha glared at him through the dim light. “No, this happened because <em>you </em>pissed it off.”</p>
<p>“You’re really going to try to blame me for this?”</p>
<p>“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, because it’s <em>your </em>fault.”</p>
<p>Exhausted, exasperated, and possibly still a bit hungover, the Master threw his head back and let out a string of curses that would’ve made a Vulgan blush. He cursed the Doctor for being an <em>idiot</em>, Martha for being an <em>idiot</em>, himself for constantly being surrounded by <em>idiots</em>, and Earth, for good measure, because anyone that spent too much time on that planet seemed to catch an incurable case of <em>becoming an idiot</em>.</p>
<p>“<em>—and I swear, if I ever find the Doctor, I’ll make him watch while I launch that fucking planet straight into its own sun. And then I’ll blow up the sun, too!</em>”</p>
<p>He heaved a breath. That felt better. Glancing to his right, he noticed Martha was staring at him in abject horror.</p>
<p>“Oh, what <em>now?</em>” he snapped.</p>
<p>“First off, fuck you.” She leaned forward, jabbing a finger in his face. “Second, we <em>are</em> going to find the Doctor. Then <em>you two idiots</em> are going to take me home. And I swear to god, if I am even a second late for dinner with my husband, I will personally launch <em>you</em> into the sun. Got it?”</p>
<p>The Master just blinked at her. Not because he didn’t <em>get it</em>. Not because some pathetic <em>human</em> just threatened him (was Emergency Program One seriously going to let that slide?). No, he sat there staring open-mouthed because he was 100% sure he hadn’t said any of that in English, and he was at least 97% sure they didn’t teach the dead language of ZI-Marazot’s Lost Sector in any schools where Martha Jones was growing up.</p>
<p>“ ∈<strong> “̌̄ ̃̂̂  ̂̀ ̀ ́́  ̂̂ ̂̂ ̄̄  </strong>⊄⊈<strong>  ̌̂̈ ̄ ̆̆ ̄ ̆̆ ̂̀ </strong>?”</p>
<p>“What are you on about? Of course I can understand you.”</p>
<p>The Master’s eyes went wide. “⊃∪<strong> ̌̄ ̃̂̂  ̂̀ ̀ ́́  ̂̂ ̂̂ ̄̄    ̌̂̈ ̄ ̆̆ ̄ ̆̆ ̂̀̂̃ </strong>⊄∉<strong>   ̈̀  ̂ ̀ ̀  ̈̀ ́ ̀ ̈ ̈ ̂ ̂̆ ̄ </strong>⊃<strong>  ̌ ̊̊  ̇̌ ̌ ̌̄ ̆̆̆ ̂̂ ̂ ̀  ̊̇  ̈ ̂̂ ̃ ̃</strong>⊃∩ !”</p>
<p>The ship rocked violently again, and they grabbed the console for support. “OK, so the translation circuit is working. How exactly does that…”</p>
<p>The Master grinned and Martha clapped her hand over her mouth. </p>
<p>“Oh my god,” she breathed through her fingers. “He’s still alive!”</p>
<p>The ship jolted again, and the cloister bells sounded even louder.</p>
<p>“OK, he’s alive, but we’re still trapped.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for stating the obvious, Martha. Now shut up. I’m trying to think.”</p>
<p>So the Doctor was alive and he was still near enough the TARDIS to be connected to it. But if he was still connected to the TARDIS’s telepathic field, why didn’t he use it to communicate with them? He groaned.  <em>It’s underpowered</em>, he remembered himself saying. For all he knew, the Doctor had been shouting his head off for the last two days, the signal all but drying to a trickle as it moved through the mess of wiring in the console. With the alarms blaring and the ship under assault by some ancient time bug, there’s no way they’d be able to do something as delicate as rewiring the entire telepathic circuit.</p>
<p>Think, think, think.</p>
<p>If the Doctor wasn’t dead, why did the TARDIS think he was? Whatever psychic interference the Arlomiax was causing couldn’t be sophisticated enough to trigger the Doctor’s custom emergency protocol. The Doctor had to be close by. His living presence in some proximity of the TARDIS was the <em>only</em> way the telepathic circuit could be working. But if he was just outside the door, the TARDIS would’ve known better than to activate Emergency Program One. Where could he <em>possibly</em> have gone that kept him connected to the TARDIS while simultaneously making the ship think he’d died?</p>
<p>Then memory slammed into his brain.</p>
<p> Jo Grant, trapped on the Doctor’s TARDIS. The Master — a much younger regeneration, sporting a very attractive beard — watching her from the observation screen on his own ship.</p>
<p>
  <em>“What’s happened to the Doctor? You must help him!” she’d begged.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And the Master had smiled. “Ah, he’s beyond my help, my dear. He’s beyond anybody’s help.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You mean that thing… That, that creature really swallowed him up?”</em>
</p>
<p>How could he have missed it?</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ah, that’s a nice point. Yes and no. Yes, it engulfed him.” And hadn’t that been wonderful? The mighty Atlantisean god, Kronos, descending on a terrified Doctor while the Master looked on. “No, it didn’t actually eat him up. He’s out there in the Time Vortex and there he’s going to stay.”</em>
</p>
<p>It was so simple!</p>
<p>
  <em>Jo’s eyes were massive, crystal clear and imploring through the video feed. “Then he is alive?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Master had chuckled. Teasing Jo never got old, and she was such a good sport about it. Unlike some newer companions he could mention.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, if you can call it that,” he’d said. “Alive forever in an eternity of nothingness. To coin a phrase, a living death.”</em>
</p>
<p>If the Doctor was no longer occupying the same dimension as the TARDIS, the ship could’ve easily assumed he was a goner, activating Emergency Program One as a last resort to protect itself. But how’d the Doctor manage to get stuck in the Time Vortex? The chronovore the Master sicced on the Doctor all those centuries ago had the power to send him there, but an Arlomiax certainly didn’t. He squeezed his eyes against the onslaught of banging alarms.</p>
<p><em>Focus.</em> What had they seen when they first landed? The stupid mountain, the stupid sand, and...</p>
<p>And a whole lot of temporal residue. </p>
<p>“Oh, you absolute <em>moron</em>.”</p>
<p>“What’d <em>I</em> do?” Martha snapped.</p>
<p>The Master rolled his eyes and dragged her around the other side of the console. “Not you. The Doctor. He landed his TARDIS right near a time rift.”</p>
<p>“Like the one in Cardiff?”</p>
<p>“Yes, but this one wasn’t stable. Landing the TARDIS this must’ve disrupted it, and like an <em>idiot</em> he walked right into it when it flared. He got sucked straight into the Time Vortex, and the TARDIS went into lockdown.”</p>
<p>“What about the Arlo— Arlomah— What about the worm?”</p>
<p>The Master shrugged. “Stupid thing was probably swimming by when the tear exploded. The Doctor got sucked in, and it got spat out. Ah, here it is!” They’d made their way to the opposite side of the console, and near the edge was a red handle encased in clear plastic. It was labeled “Extreme Emergency”. The Master flipped open the lid, knocking lose dust that had probably been gathering since Jo used it all those hundreds of years ago.</p>
<p>“Would you like to do the honors, <em>Dr</em>?”</p>
<p>There was the barest hint of a smile on Martha’s face as she rolled her eyes and pulled the handle.</p>
<p>The ship rocked again, and the Master and Martha fell backward. </p>
<p>“What happened?” Martha said, shouting over the alarms. “What did that lever do?”</p>
<p>“It’s... Actually, you know what? I’m not explaining it.”</p>
<p>“Well, did it work?”</p>
<p>The Master braced himself against the railing to peer around the empty console room. “It worked when Jo Grant used it. Did you pull it wrong?”</p>
<p>“How do you pull a handle ‘wrong’?”</p>
<p>“You tell me. Your species was practically designed to screw things up.”</p>
<p>“Should I show myself out, then? Seems like you’ve got it <em>completely</em> under control here.”</p>
<p>“I’m beginning to find your tone tiresome, Jones.”</p>
<p>“Have you two been fighting like this this whole time I’ve been gone?”</p>
<p>Martha and the Master froze. </p>
<p>“Was that…?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m going to <em>kill</em> him.”</p>
<p>They scrambled around to the otherside of the central column, where they found the Doctor furiously keying commands into the ship. With each subsequent press of a button and turn of a dial, the alarms ceased, the lights went on, and the TARDIS shielding must have reenabled, because the violent rocking finally stopped.</p>
<p>They stared at him. When the Doctor finally turned around, he gave them a cheery wave.</p>
<p>“Hullo!” he said, right before collapsing to the floor in a heap.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you haven't watched The Time Monster, I have to recommend it. It had some PEAK ThreeGado banter, Stuart Hyde (considered DWho's first queer character), the wackiest monster costume, Benton turns into a literal baby, ATLANTIS (!!!), and it's the penultimate Delgado!Master appearance before Roger Delgado died, which means it's the last one of his serials I can watch without feeling incredibly sad. And yes, the flash-back dialogue in this chapter was lifted directly from the transcript 😆</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh… <em>Oh</em>!” Martha tipped her head to the side as she stared up at the writing on Veyani Peak. “That <em>is </em>rude. How would you even get one arm up there, let alone seven?”</p><p>The Master shrugged. “Off the top of my head, I can think of seventeen species whose mothers have the flexibility to pull it off.” He paused and thought for a moment. “And the arms.”</p><p>Martha snorted. “Well, I can’t say I’m happy I finally got the translation.”</p><p>“<em>Hey</em>!” a voice cried out. “A little help over here?!”</p><p>They turned back to face the Doctor. He’d managed to drag the Arlomiax off of the TARDIS, and was now struggling to haul the twisting mass of interdimensional muscle and teeth back onto the ship. It whipped its tail out of his grasp and thrashed about, sending sand flying.</p><p>“Not sure why we should help you,” the Master called back. “It’s not like it’s <em>our</em> fault you got yourself into this mess.”</p><p>“We did spend the last couple days trying to save you,” Martha added. “I think we deserve a break.”</p><p>“Have you tried taking a few deep breaths?” the Master asked. “Some idiot told me the fumes that come off that rock create a sense of inner peace.”</p><p>They continued watching the struggle, each making a face when the thing got its tail behind the Doctor’s legs, knocking them out from under him.</p><p>“Watch the teeth!” the Master called, wincing sympathetically.</p><p>The Doctor grabbed the Arlomiax in a messy head lock, pinning it’s upper half down while the lower half coiled angrily. “Come <em>on</em>, you two. We can’t take off until this thing is on the ship. How else are we supposed to get it back into the Time Vortex where it belongs?”</p><p>The Master shrugged. “You should’ve thought of that before you <em>didn’t</em> take us to Brauliv-4.” He turned back to Martha. “Brauliv-4 has a beach, you know.”</p><p>Martha’s gave him a knowing look that seemed to say, <em>Like I’d get anywhere near a large body of water with you,</em> before her eyebrows rose playfully. “Oh, a <em>beach</em>. Doctor,” she called, and the exasperated Time Lord looked up from the looping yellow pile of chronovore slowly constricting around him, “the beach would’ve been fun! Why didn’t we go there?”</p><p>The Doctor’s sigh turned to a yelp when the Arlomiax bit a chunk out of his jacket sleeve. Grunting, he managed to wrap his limbs around the twirling mass and somersaulted both of them through the open doors and into the TARDIS.</p><p>“See!” the Master said, delighted. “We knew you could do it.”</p><p>Martha even clapped, but, being human, she just had to ruin the moment a minute later when she said, “You can say ‘thank you’ anytime now.”</p><p>“Or,” the Master said, “I could tell you how to program the coordinates to your timezone on Earth and we can get out of each other’s hair before the Doctor makes a scene.”</p><p>“Why would the Doctor make a scene?”</p><p>“Wait for it…”</p><p>“<em>What the hell did you do to my room</em>?” they heard him screech from inside the ship.</p><p>Martha tipped her head in consideration, tapping her chin with her finger. The Master watched her patiently.</p><p>“Deal.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The Master waited for the TARDIS engines to quiet to their usual low thrum as they idled through the Time Vortex, having dropped Martha back on Earth and sent the angry chronovore on its way. The Master really hoped the news of his assistance in saving the Doctor didn’t end up in some UNIT report. It wouldn’t do for his reputation to have a chronicle of his “good deeds” stashed away. The blackmail potential would be too great.</p><p>He made a mental note to blow up UNIT headquarters next time he visited.</p><p>The Doctor was trying to keep himself occupied by inspecting the TARDIS console for damage. On his fourth pass, he was beginning to look ridiculous. The Master cleared his throat.</p><p>“This isn’t working, Doctor.”</p><p>The Doctor’s shoulders tensed, and he turned slowly.</p><p>“Something has to change,” he added, inspecting his fingernails. “I don’t intend on spending the rest of my life tagging along after you, praying you don’t die and leave me imprisoned in this relic.”</p><p>“Right,” the Doctor said sadly, looking anywhere but at the Master. “I was afraid you might say that.” He looked up, and the Master was delighted to see the sheen in his eyes. “We can go to Brauliv-4, you can drown me at the beach or whatever it was you were planning and be on your way.”</p><p>The Master watched him, head tipped innocently to the side. He raised his eyebrows. “...And?”</p><p>The Doctor muttered something that sounded like “M’sorry.”</p><p>“Didn’t quite catch that, my dear Doctor.”</p><p>The Doctor sighed. “And I’m <em>sorry</em>. About Emergency Program One. I added that override after…” He took a shaky breath. “After the Valiant. I was… bitter, I guess. Didn’t think you’d ever be back here, and I must’ve forgotten.” His eyes dropped to the floor, and he shifted on his feet. “So. Brauliv-4, then?”</p><p>The Master smiled, pleased. “Actually, I had somewhere else in mind. If you’d kindly disable the isomorphic lock on the controls, I can take us now. I’m sick of you driving.”</p><p>The Doctor’s head snapped up. “Wha…?”</p><p>“Oh, please, I’m not abandoning you. Not just yet, anyway. But if I’m stuck on this death trap of a TARDIS, I want to at least make sure I can unlock the doors when I see fit.”</p><p>“I… well… I don’t…”</p><p>“OK, fine. Brauliv-4 will do. Try to get us within a few thousand years of the 47th century, if you don’t mind. I think that’s when they discovered interstellar travel.”</p><p>“No, wait!” The Doctor turned back to the control panel and furiously keyed a command into the ship. The TARDIS hummed in consideration, and suddenly, her presence flooded the Master’s senses. He staggered back a bit, wincing at the sudden telepathic connection.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>, that is <em>so </em>much better,” he said with a grin. He stood next to the Doctor, flexing his hands over the controls. “Alright, let’s see if I still remember how to do this.”</p><p>The Doctor watched over his shoulder as the Master prepared the TARDIS for its next destination. He could practically hear the Doctor’s eyes widen.</p><p>“I’m not sure we should—”</p><p>The Master spun around, cutting the Doctor off. “Do you trust me?” he asked, point blank. Might as well get it out of the way, after all. He braced himself for the inevitable silence that would answer his question, keeping his face blank. The man had just left him to die not 48 hours ago, and the Master wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing him hurt by another one of his actions.</p><p>The Doctor sucked in another breath and let it out in a slow stream out his nose. “...I don’t. Yet, anyway. But go ahead.” He folded his arms and took a step back, still looking uneasy but making it clear he wouldn’t interfere.</p><p>The Master barely managed to suppress another grin.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I don’t think I’m going to need to eat until our next anniversary,” Mickey groaned as he locked the front door behind them.</p><p>Martha hung her coat on the rack and smiled sleepily at him. “Agreed.” They were both full to the brim of good steak and good wine and the surprise desert of carrot cake with little sparklers stuck in the icing that Mickey had arranged ahead of time. She turned to walk to the kitchen and froze in the entryway, spying a dark shape on their dining table. She squinted at it suspiciously and reached her hand around the corner to flick the lightswitch, jumping back from the resulting brightness.</p><p>“Woah!” Mickey said when she bumped into him. “Jumpy?”</p><p>“Sorry, it’s just…” she trailed off and turned back to the table in the center of the room.</p><p>Right in the center of the warm pool of lights sat a glass bottle of amber liquid with an envelope propped against it. The neat script written across the front addressed <em>“</em>Dr. and Mr. Jones.<em>”</em></p><p>“Is this a gift from someone?” Mickey asked. He followed Martha into the room and watched her snatch up the envelope. “And do people really think I took your name?”</p><p>Martha shot him a playful look as she flipped the envelope over. Her eyes narrowed at the blue wax seal and she hesitated for a beat before sliding her finger under the lip. The front of the card was nondescript, just smooth, cream paper. She pulled it out and flipped it open and read the writing inside while Mickey stepped around her to inspect the bottle.</p><p>
  <em>I told the Doctor I’d sign the card from both of us, but I trust you know to whom credit is really due.</em>
</p><p>Below the note were two names signed in looping Gallifreyan script. Martha smiled, half wondering if the Master expected her to know which name was which. Then she realized this meant the TARDIS would’ve touched down on Earth again and pulled her phone out of her purse. It’d been on silent all during dinner. 107 missed calls. Whoops.</p><p>Next to her, Mickey whistled.</p><p>“This is… <em>wow</em>. This must’ve cost an arm and a leg.” He presented the bottle to her, turning it up so she could read the label.</p><p>“Somehow I doubt payment was involved,” Martha mumbled, setting the card down.</p><p>Mickey frowned, looking down to the card laying on the table and then back to Martha. “Who’s it from?”</p><p>“The Doctor,” Martha said. “And the Master.”</p><p>“Oh,” Mickey said, surprised. “That was... nice of them? I guess.” He frowned back down at the bottle. “Do you think we should try to return it?” he asked, sounding a little disappointed.</p><p>Martha thought for a moment, before happily deciding she was <em>not</em> going to feel guilty about this. Smiling at Mickey, she grabbed the whiskey out of his hands. “Are you kidding?” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Grab the glasses. We've earned it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading, everyone! And also a big thanks to the BB mods! It was super fun working with y'all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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